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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217147">You Were Built On Ashes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeancebraArt/pseuds/DeancebraArt'>DeancebraArt</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingeyre/pseuds/wanderingeyre'>wanderingeyre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Feral Derek Hale, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Monster of the Week, POV Derek Hale, POV Multiple, POV Stiles Stilinski, Pack Feels, canon compliant after 3A, canon typical peril, sterek reverse quickie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:47:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeancebraArt/pseuds/DeancebraArt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingeyre/pseuds/wanderingeyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing in the corner is huge, easily the largest wolf Stiles has ever seen with deep black fur that helps it blend into the gloom of the corner. The wolf opens its eyes and they flash blue. Stiles trips over his own feet in his haste to get across the room, righting himself as he goes, and falls to his knees on the floor beside the wolf.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sterek Reverse Quickie 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Were Built On Ashes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is part of the Sterek Reverse Quickie 2020. Art by the awesome Deancebra.<br/>Prompt: Feral!Derek is curled up and all alone. He is a sad wolf without a pack.<br/><a href="https://deancebra-art.tumblr.com/post/633865609401286656/this-was-my-first-ever-sterekbang-and-let-me-just"> "Check out the art on tumblr" </a></p><p>But they<br/>will not,<br/>shall not,<br/>cannot<br/>destroy you.</p><p>Because you,<br/>like Rome<br/>were built on ashes,<br/>and you,<br/>like a phoenix<br/>know how to<br/>rise<br/>and<br/>resurrect.</p><p>-Nakita Gill</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They survived the Alpha Pack and they won but their victory caused so much damage that the debris is slowly drowning all of them. Stiles keeps an eye on everyone at school, trying to gauge if they’ve made it through this with their sanity intact and he wonders how this became normal to him. Everyone is moving forward but the pain of Boyd and Erica, Cora’s escape to her other pack, and Derek’s bad choices that somehow made everything worse chases them through the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only one Stiles can’t reach is Derek. He tries for a week, leaving text messages and then finally resorting to voicemail. Stiles saw Derek after Boyd, was there for the way Derek crumbled like a building under gale force winds, barraged and damaged by something inescapable. Derek is the one they should be the most concerned about, the one who shoulders the most guilt, whether it’s deserved or not, and already carries more than his fair share.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a week of no response, Stiles goes to the loft. The door is loud as it opens and the inside looks like nothing has been disturbed for weeks, not that there was much inside of the loft to look disturbed. Derek took living sparsely to an entire level above the top level. Stiles starts to call out to Derek, but stops. If the werewolf is here, Derek already knows Stiles is walking through the door. Stiles steps gingerly into the open room of the loft and looks around. He’s already feeling like this may have been a bust. It’s not like Derek hasn’t left them in the lurch before, but there’s still a churning worry that Stiles can’t banish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The late afternoon light is streaming through the wall of windows and Stiles almost misses it, hidden in the shadows under the windows. For an illogical moment, Stiles feels fear claw its way to the surface, then he looks closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, Derek?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing in the corner is huge, easily the largest wolf Stiles has ever seen with deep black fur that helps it blend into the gloom of the corner. The wolf opens its eyes and they flash blue.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles trips over his own feet in his haste to get across the room, righting himself as he goes, and falls to his knees on the floor beside the wolf. Derek’s fur is matted and dull. He watches Stiles with big eyes that look like a darker version of the hazel eyes Derek sports in his human form. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I?” Stiles’s hand hovers over the wolf. Derek doesn’t move and those hazel eyes continue to track him. “Don’t bite my hand off, okay? I’m going to put my hand on you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles swallows and rests his hand on the wolf’s head, then runs it back and down over the curled body. Even filthy, the fur is soft and Stiles can’t help the noise he makes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so soft.” Stiles runs his hand over the wolf again. “I didn’t know you could full shift. I mean, I know you said your mom could, but this is pretty amazing. I’ve been calling you. I was worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf closes its eyes again but doesn’t move, and the worry that Stiles has been carrying blooms. As awesome as Derek is as a fully shifted wolf, something feels off about this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles rests his hand on the head of the wolf. “Don’t leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles stands and walks through the loft. He starts in the kitchen. Derek’s phone is dead on the counter. There are dishes in the sink, but they look like they’ve been there for days. He opens the fridge and finds some apples that have gone soft, some kind of vegetable that is well on its way to becoming a green goo in the bottom drawer, and an array of hot sauces. That’s it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worry churns and Stiles goes upstairs. One bedroom looks unused and the other one must be Derek’s. Stiles has never been up here before, never had a reason to be, though Stiles has tried to imagine what Derek Hale’s bedroom might look like plenty of times. Stiles shakes himself. Now is not the time for that. The bedroom is musty and there is a fine layer of dust on everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks around the room and pulls out his phone. He texts Scott first.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>SOS at Derek’s loft. Meet me there.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He calls Deaton next and has to briefly explain the situation before Deaton will come. Stiles has to bite down the frustration Deaton’s calm tone prickles into existence in him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles clamors down the metal staircase and his eyes go to the corner, half afraid Derek will have disappeared, a figment of Stiles’s own desire to find Derek and know the man isn’t dead somewhere in a ditch. The wolf, though, hasn’t moved at all and Stiles walks back over to the corner. He sits down on the floor, not minding the dirt, lays a hand on Derek’s neck and waits for Scott and Deaton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrive at almost the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott is delighted with full shift Derek. Deaton is more subdued, and Stiles moves out of the way when Deaton starts checking Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has he been like this?” Deaton asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles puts his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to reach him for a week and he never answered, so I came over today after school and found him like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton shines a light in Derek’s eyes, listens to his heart, and pokes and prods at Derek who never moves entire time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton sits back on his heels. “Beyond being dehydrated, there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles waves a hand at Derek. “He doesn’t look fine. I mean he is pretty but…” He flails his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton stands. “He’ll come back when he’s ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks around the loft. “He can’t stay here, alone. And there’s no yard.” No way was Stiles leaving Derek in this place where so much tragedy had happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek always retreats into his own space when he’s upset, blocking other people out with an efficiency that Stiles knows took years and a lot of trauma to perfect. Derek has people who care about him—Stiles cares about him more than he should—and Stiles doesn’t want Derek moping alone thinking he doesn’t matter to anyone or that he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve</span>
  </em>
  <span> to matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott who has been quiet, speaks up. “He can come home with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves for the first time since Stiles entered the loft and growls. The sound is low and frustrated, but not menacing. Then Derek rests his head on the floor again, his eyes staying on Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles rolls his eyes. “Still trying to be the boss when you look like that. At least you’re pretty. I’ll take him, but Scott has to help me get him home. He looks like he weighs a ton.” Stiles isn’t sure how he’s going to explain this to his dad. “I, uh, should probably call Dad and ask him about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles chews on his thumb as the phone rings. His dad answers and Stiles launches the best appeal he can make. “Look Dad, we have a sort of supernatural emergency.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you in danger?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not this time, no. Derek is having a bit of a crisis and he needs a favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it illegal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No. Dad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a valid question, son.” His dad sighs and Stiles can perfectly picture the look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fair. Not illegal. Derek needs a place to stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a spare room. He can stay as long as he wants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Easy acceptance was not the thing Stiles expected. Stiles’s dad has a soft spot for Derek Hale. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Guess his stupid Sourwolf charm works on all Stilinksis</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “But Dad, he’s kind of stuck in a wolf form. He’s a really freaking huge fluffy wolf... dog... thing”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already said yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll shed.” Stiles doesn’t know why his mouth is still moving when his dad already gave him what he wanted. Derek growls at him and Stiles rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, get him to our house. He can stay as long as needed. Keep him off the couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek walks into the house from Stiles’s Jeep—which Scott is grateful for because Derek really does weigh a ton—and lays in the middle of the entryway, giving him the ability to see both the living room and the kitchen at the same time. Stiles knows why Derek laid there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still think you protect everyone, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott shifts from foot to foot looking from Derek on the floor to Stiles. He looks like he wants to both bolt out the door and stay put. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles sits beside Derek and rubs his hand over Derek’s head. Derek in wolf form is so fluffy Stiles wants to pet him all day, every day. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we?” Stiles asks Derek. Derek’s only answer is to swivel his ears and look between Stiles and Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott kneels next to Stiles and Derek. “Stiles is going to take good care of you and I can be here in minutes if something happens.” Scott stands and looks down at them. “I mean it. Text me if you need anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Scotty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closes behind Scott, and Stiles looks at Derek. “I know you’re going to hate this, but you’re a mess. Your fur is full of dust and dirt and you smell. You need a bath. We can do it in my tub, but you’re going to have to get yourself up the stairs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf lifts his head and huffs at Stiles before slowly getting to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Stiles rubs Derek behind the ears. “Good puppy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks up at him, flashes blue eyes, and growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs. “That’s the Sourwolf I know and love. C’mon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles leads the way upstairs to the bathroom in the hallway. Derek is right on his heels. Stiles gets out the biggest towel he has and puts it on the floor where he can kneel on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods towards the tub. “In you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek huffs again and leaps into the bathtub. Stiles looks down at his own clothes and considers his options. It’s not like Derek hasn’t seen most of his body anyway, so Stiles lifts up the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, toes off his shoes, and takes off his pants. Everything goes in a pile, far away from the tub, That leaves him in his boxers, but at least he won’t be stuck in wet jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles runs the water until it’s warm, reaches above for the shower wand, and turns on the shower head. He’s careful to keep the water out of Derek’s face as he wets down the wolf. It takes longer than Stiles anticipated because Derek has layers and layers of fur. When he’s done, Stiles chuckles at what Derek looks like with his fur weighed down with water. Derek glowers at Stiles, which only makes Stiles laugh harder as he turns off the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you don’t scare me, you should what with the scowling eyebrows and growling, but you don’t. I’m not sure if that truth is more disparaging to me or to you. Probably to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grabs a grey bottle from the side of the tub. “I don’t have any dog shampoo.” Derek growls at Stiles’s words. “Look, I know you’re not a dog, dude, but you do have a dog-like body right now. This is 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, so as long as you’re okay with smelling a little like me, you’ll be soft and clean in no time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles pours a large amount of soap into his hand and starts rubbing it over Derek’s neck and shoulders. Stiles reaches over and massages the soap into Derek’s chest and the wolf leans into him with a sigh. The wolf turns his head and swipes his tongue over Stiles’s face, making Stiles chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sweet like this and you definitely tell me to shut up way less. I know that’s what all the growling is, but I can interpret that however I want. Instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up, Stiles,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can pretend you’re saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re brilliant, Stiles.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Maybe you should stay like this forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf gives him a look. Stiles rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t mean that.” Stiles puts more soap on his hands and works it over Derek’s back. “I miss the human you, but you can stay like this as long as you need to.” Stiles pokes him on his dog butt. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf growls at him again, but it doesn’t sound threatening this time. Stiles rubs down each of Derek’s legs, lifting his feet and rubbing in between his paws, then runs his hands over Derek and spikes up the fur along his back and head. The wolf looks at Stiles, clearly unamused. Stiles washes off his hands with some water and grabs his phone from the bathroom counter. He snaps a couple pictures and grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For posterity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf rolls his eyes at Stiles and Stiles turns the water on and rinses off the soap. As soon as all the soap is off, and before Stiles has the water turned off, Derek shakes, sending water everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? You couldn’t wait for the towel?” Stiles waves his arms and looks at the water that’s now all over the bathroom, including on the ceiling, and puts his hands on his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles stands and shakes out the towel he’d been kneeling on and starts drying off Derek. The wolf leans into it and wiggles under the towel. His fur holds in so much water that the towel is soon soaked and Stiles has to fish another towel out of the cabinet. Derek watches every move Stiles makes, and Stiles kneels back by the tub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs Derek on either side of his big wolf face. “Look, I know the last few months have been absolute and utter shit and if this makes you feel better for a while, then you do what you need to. I’ll take care of you for as long as you want to stay like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles would do anything for Derek. The fierceness of this truth is rooted deep in Stiles and he hopes that Derek hears the bone deep vow in his words. Life has given Derek enough suffering and if Stiles can make even some of Derek’s days easier, he will do all in his power to do so. Derek puts his nose in Stiles’s hair and puffs out a breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.” Stiles throws the towels in the washer and the two of them pad into the kitchen. “I have to cook dinner and make something for you too. Let me know if you need to go outside and stay off the couch. Otherwise, make yourself at home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles fills a bowl with water and places it out of the way against the wall. “Here’s some water for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek drinks delicately from the bowl then goes and lays down by the doorway to the kitchen where he can see Stiles moving around and—Stiles assumes—keep an eye on the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles pulls everything he needs out of the fridge for dinner. He’s going to have to go to the store tomorrow after school for a few things and then he’ll need a longer list for Saturday when his dad goes shopping so they have enough for Derek for however long this lasts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles glances at Derek. The wolf is watching him move around the kitchen. Stiles gives him a thumbs up and keeps prepping. Chicken and vegetables for him and his dad get seasoned and dumped into a baking dish, then Stiles slides it into the heated oven. Next, Stiles starts rice and steams some carrots and broccoli for Derek, then chops up some raw chicken. Stiles did some research and there is a whole movement of people who feed their dogs raw chicken and vegetables. He figures that would be better for Derek than dog food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles has a break in his work and he goes to sit on the floor next to Derek. The wolf’s fur is dry and even softer than before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles cards his fingers through the ruff at Derek’s neck and makes a cooing noise. “Oh my God, Derek you’re so soft. I know you won’t bite me so I feel like I can tell you that you are so adorable and awesome as a wolf. So fluffy. So pretty. I want to pet you forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek raises his wolf head and he’s so big, his head is almost level with Stiles’s. The wolf moves so fast Stiles can barely track it and grabs Stiles’s wrist in his teeth. The hold is gentle and lasts half a second before Derek lets go, a wolfish grin on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs and the wolf licks his face. “Point taken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is how Stiles’s dad finds them, with Stiles laughing, the wolf licking Stiles’s face, and both of them on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Dad looks at them and squats down next to Derek. “He’s bigger than I expected, but I guess that makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, he’s so soft. Pet him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek bumps his head into Stiles’s dad’s hand, forcing him to rub behind his ears. Noah gives in and rubs his hands over Derek’s neck and along his back. “Is he okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile fades a little from Stiles’s face. “Deaton says there’s nothing wrong with him other than dehydration and lack of food. He needs some time.” Stiles pauses and looks at Derek, whose hazel wolf eyes are watching him. “I think this form might make him feel better. Things have been really bad lately.” Stiles rests his hand on Derek’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad’s lips thin out into a line. “I know. You’re all just kids.” He runs a hand over Derek and turns the wolf’s face so that it’s looking at him instead of Stiles. “You’re welcome here for as long as you need to stay. We’ll take care of you.” Noah stands up. “When’s dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles leans over to look at the timer on the stove. “Ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. I’ll change and be right down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they are all settled in the kitchen for dinner, Stiles puts a plate on the floor next to the table where him and his dad are going to sit. It’s piled with diced raw chicken, vegetables, and rice. Derek gets up and pads over to the plate and looks at Stiles in what Stiles would definitely categorize as a glare. He’s been on the receiving end of that look from Derek in human form that it almost makes him laugh to see the same expression on the wolf’s face. The fact that Stiles recognizes it does him laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Deaton said this is the best food for you, okay.” Stiles crosses his arms. “Or I can buy you dog food.” Derek growls and picks a piece of chicken from the plate and eats it. “That’s what I thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, they clear the table and Stiles puts the food away while his dad does the dishes. Stiles has a chemistry test tomorrow and, though he doesn’t really need to study much, he does want to look over his notes, so he hauls himself up the stairs, wolf right behind him. In his bedroom, Derek doesn’t even hesitate. He jumps on Stiles’s bed and curls up by the pillows, watching Stiles like he’s daring Stiles to move him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see how it’s going to be.” Stiles picks up his book and notes and joins Derek on the bed. He rests his back along the curve of Derek’s spine and the wolf lets out a long sigh of contentment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an hour, Stiles is done studying, but doesn’t want to move. Having Derek in any form with him is comforting. Derek isn’t the only one with Beacon Hills induced PTSD, and Stiles is enjoying his new support wolf. To distract himself, he starts making a list of other things he might need if Derek stays this way for more than a few days. He watches some </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great British Baking Show</span>
  </em>
  <span> while he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I wasn’t joking before—I always wanted a dog.” Stiles can feel Derek shift next to him so he knows the wolf is listening. “Dad said I wasn’t responsible enough. In his defense, I was only eleven. I think he just didn’t want an extra thing to take care of. Mom had just died and I think he was barely keeping it together enough to take care of me, let alone a dog.” Stiles moves the laptop and shifts so he is curled around the wolf with an arm thrown around Derek’s shoulders. “I just wanted something to take care of to prove to myself that I could. Part of me was scared that mom had died because I hadn’t loved her enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves and licks Stiles’s hand. “I know it wasn’t rational, but I was a kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles tightens his arm and buries his face in the soft fur of Derek’s neck. He revels in being able to touch Derek and be close to him without the baggage of Derek being stupidly attractive and Stiles harboring feelings for Derek that he struggles to keep under wraps. This is so much easier. Something clicks and Stiles takes a sharp breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, I meant what I told Dad before. Things have been bad, epically terrible. Stuff might feel easier for you when you’re a wolf and I get that, God, I do, but we’ll need you back, the human you, eventually.” Stiles pauses. “I want you to come back when you’re ready. Until then, I’ll take care of you. You deserve to have nice things and have someone take care of you sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek licks his hand again and they both fall asleep, curled around each other, safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things are less complicated in his wolf form, stripped to the bare bones of meaning. Derek should have known it would be Stiles who would come looking, Stiles who sees more than he should, who never lets things be, and who is the one person who has the capacity to reach into the parts Derek hides from everyone else. Derek’s mistakes and losses hurt but they don’t crush him in this form like they do when he’s in human skin, so he stays a wolf. He doesn’t think his human form has done anything but cause harm, and Derek thinks being a wolf is better—maybe for everyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek likes the feel of being in Stiles’s house. It smells safe, like home and pack and love. He loves the bath because afterwards he smells like Stiles and himself mixed together like they always should be. He knows that Stiles is worried about him, can smell it on the human, but underneath that is loyalty and love and Derek knows he’s safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles spends Friday night playing video games with Scott while Derek is sprawled at their feet. Stiles has an idea, but he wants to run it by Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should have a pack night over here tomorrow,” he says, and he gauges both Scott’s and Derek’s reactions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts his head and watches both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott pauses the game and looks from Derek to Stiles. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought it was a terrible one. I think it might do him some good to have the pack around.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s left of it, anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott is nodding. “I think that it will do everyone some good. Pizza and movies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking we could grill burgers, that way Derek can have some and if I bribe my dad with real red meat, he’ll be less likely to complain about being invaded.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott bumps his shoulder against Stiles. “It’s a great idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first time they’ve all been together since Deucalion left town and there are holes where there shouldn’t be—Boyd, Erica, Cora. The holes are like lights on the edges of their vision, you can see them and they mess with your perception of everything else, but they are blinding when you face them head on. It’s best to keep them just there, in the corners where they do less damage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison and Lydia show up together and both of them squeal over Derek. He acts aloof, but leans into their caresses. Stiles doesn’t even bother to hide his grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s softer than a baby bunny.” Allison buries her face in Derek’s fur and kisses the side of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia kneels down and looks Derek in the eyes. “You are gorgeous.” She runs her hands down Derek’s back. He walks through her hands, then circles back for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs. “He’s a total attention whore in this form, ladies, so now you have to pet him for the rest of the night or he whines like a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns and growls at Stiles and Stiles bares his teeth right back at the wolf, which makes everyone laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac and Scott arrive next, and Isaac’s reaction is much more subdued. Derek approaches Isaac with his head high and rubs his side into Isaac before stopping and leaning into his legs. Isaac’s smile is tentative but widens as he cards his fingers through Derek’s fur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malia is the last to arrive. She greets everyone before kneeling in front of Derek and rubbing her face along his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles keeps an eye on everyone when they see Derek for the first time and he keeps a gauge on Derek’s reactions. While he thinks this will be good for Derek, Stiles knows this could also be overwhelming. Everyone seems happy to see Derek as a wolf and the wolf is wagging his tail and looking far more energetic than Stiles has seen him, so Stiles relaxes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves everyone in the backyard and goes into the kitchen to make sure everything is ready for dinner. There’s a clicking of nails on tile and he turns to see Derek coming into the kitchen. The wolf rubs his side along Stiles and leans into him. Stiles read online that big dogs like to lean and wolves must too because Derek leans into him every chance he gets. Derek’s head is almost to Stiles’s waist and Stiles let’s his hand rest on the wolf’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pack is important. We’re small, but they’re all here because they care about each other.” Stiles kneels down and looks Derek in the eyes. “They’re here because they care about you too. Don’t forget that.” Stiles stands and finishes slicing tomatoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad agrees to man the grill, mostly, Stiles suspects, because the only person in the pack he trusts with the grill is Derek and Derek currently lacks opposable thumbs, so he’s not an option. Stiles catches his dad looking at the pack off and on through the night with a mix of affection and humor that Stiles frequently sees in his direction every day and it starts a warmth that blooms as the night goes on. This is the kind of pack gathering Stiles always wanted after Scott was bitten and it feels right—they should have done this long ago. His enthusiasm is infectious and, despite the past months, he coaxes a smile and some laughter from everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles digs out an old croquet set from the garage and they set up obstacle croquet in the backyard. Allison turns out to be ridiculously good at it, to the surprise of no one, and Malia is so competitive she spends most of the game chasing people’s balls down to bump them, sending them off the court. The game is a draw because Derek keeps slinking onto the field and stealing balls. He runs away with them and hides them around the corner of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles chases him down, Malia on his heels, as they attempt to tackle Derek to the ground. He slips between their hands and runs straight into Isaac and Scott, who are much more of a match for him, and they manage to get him to the ground. What ensues can only only be described as chaos and laughter. Everyone ends up in a pile on the ground with Derek in the center, the game forgotten. On the bottom of the pile, Stiles is next to Derek and Stiles rubs a hand over Derek’s face and grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek walks through the house before going to bed that night. His nails click on the tile as he checks the door and windows in the kitchen before moving to the front door and windows in the living room. Stiles lines the house with mountain ash at night and Derek is careful not to get too close to it. The scent tickles his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses in the doorway of the room he is sharing with Stiles. It smells like Derek and Stiles and home and the wolf feels settled in a way he hasn’t for a long time. Their pack is young but he sees their potential, knows that they will grow into their own and be better. Scott will be a good alpha, better than he had been. There is pain there, but it’s faint and distant. Derek is a beta now and it’s better this way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles comes out of the bathroom and crawls into bed. He leaves Derek’s side of the bed free and Derek jumps into the space and curls up next to Stiles. The human throws an arm around Derek and moves closer. Derek would do anything to keep him safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles sleeps in on Sunday. It’s hard to get out of bed when his bed is filled with fluffy, warm wolf. Stiles buries his face in the ruff at Derek’s neck. Derek as a wolf is pretty great, but Stiles had hoped yesterday—which went even better than he’d hoped—would show Derek that things could be good with the pack. Stiles is starting to miss Derek’s grumpy eyebrows and he misses being able to snark back and forth with the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shifts around and licks him on the cheek. Stiles huffs out a short laugh. Wolf Derek is much more affectionate than human Derek, and Stiles does enjoy how easy it is between them like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, wolfy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold nose is pressed into his neck and breathes air out in a warm huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles runs a hand down Derek’s side. “We should go on a run today. I’ve been running more. Gotta keep up with you freaky, fast werewolves without losing a lung. I usually run in the Preserve, but I don’t have a leash for you.” Stiles chews on the corner of his mouth. “If I take you, you can’t run off. You have to stay with me.” The wolf cocks it’s head at Stiles. “Look, I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t want you to be alone and I don’t want people to think you’re a stray dog.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Though how anyone could take one look at you and think you’re anything but an apex predator is beyond me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek follows Stiles to the Jeep and jumps into the passenger seat. Stiles rolls the window down before he closes the door and Derek spends the entire ride with his head out in the wind like every other dog on the planet in a car with an open window. Raw joy and laughter bubble up in Stiles and he smiles all the way to one of the parking areas by the trails in the Preserve. He turns off the engine and looks at Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You promise to stay close? Please don’t make me chase you across the Preserve.” Stiles runs his hand over Derek’s head and scratches his ears. Derek leans into the ear rub. “You’re a sucker for that. I hope you don’t rip my throat out when you’re back to normal for all the petting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They start out slow and steady, Derek pacing Stiles along the trails both of them know well. The sun is shining through the trees, the temperature is perfect, and Stiles could not have imagined a more wonderful morning. Well, he could actually, he’d be sleeping, but then he definitely would be the slowest in the pack and therefore the first to get eaten. Stiles wants to avoid being eaten, maimed, or killed in any fashion. Hence, dragging his ass out of bed and running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s made more pleasant with the wolf running beside him. Stiles slows to a walk to catch his breath. “You know, we could do this often, even after you come back. I like the company.” Stiles looks at the wolf. “I like your company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles starts to run again and Derek stays next to him the entire time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, Stiles pops two bags of extra butter popcorn and sits on the couch to watch a movie. He wants to relax and think about nothing but stormtroopers and the evil empire. Five minutes into the movie, Derek is sitting right in front of him, watching him without moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, what are you doing? I can barely see over your head.” Stiles shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves closer and puts his head down on the couch, eyes looking up at Stiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let you on the couch. That was Dad’s one rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek raises his head, sniffs at the bowl of popcorn, and whines. Stiles lifts a piece of popcorn and holds it out to Derek. “Is this what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek takes it delicately from Stiles, barely touching his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles thinks he might melt. “That is the cutest thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf growls at him. Stiles flails. “Look, it’s not my fault that as a human you are all imposing and handsome and broody, but like this you are so adorable and fluffy. It’s killing me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles swears the wolf preens a little and rolls his eyes at Stiles, then whines again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More?” Stiles picks up a piece of popcorn. Derek yips and jumps so that his front paws leave the ground. “See? Freakin’ adorable. You’re going to have to work for this one. Back up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf backs up a few paces and Stiles throws the popcorn. Derek jumps up and catches it, a big wolfy grin on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome. Do it again. Go over there.” Stiles points to the corner of the room. Derek moves, Stiles throws the popcorn, and Derek catches it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Stiles doesn’t warn him, he just chucks a piece of popcorn into the air and Derek dashes in a blur and catches it. Stiles tries again, throwing it far enough that Derek will miss, but Derek catches it every time and Stiles is cackling with laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad comes down the stairs and stops in the archway of the living room. “Stiles, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eating popcorn and watching a movie with Derek.” Stiles throws another piece of popcorn and Derek leaps in the air, catches it, and looks expectantly at Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah frowns. “He’s not a dog, Stiles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know dad, but he likes it. Don’t you, you big fluffy Popcornwolf,” Stiles says. Derek yips and his tongue lolls out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His dad shakes his head and sits down on the other side of the couch. “Mind if I join you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek walks up to Noah, lays his head on Noah’s lap, and whines. Then he backs up and places one paw up on the couch and whines again with the saddest look on his face. Stiles is sure his dad is going to call Derek on some serious acting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noah sighs, the sound he makes when Stiles is being ridiculous, but he loves Stiles anyway. Stiles hears it often. “Fine, come on up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles’s jaw drops as Derek leaps onto the couch and settles in with his head in Stiles’s lap. Stiles puts the bowl of popcorn on the table so he can have both hands free to pet Derek while they finish the movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week passes and the Stilinksis and Derek fall into a routine. On school days, Stiles takes Derek to the Preserve to run after school. On the weekends, they go about midmorning because Stiles likes sleeping in, especially when his bed is warm and full of a big, black wolf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re running on Sunday morning when they find the first body, a middle aged man, face up in the leaves. It’s pale, an off blue tint to the skin that Stiles can’t place. He calls Scott while Derek sniffs around the area and they wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Scott arrives he goes straight to the body, walks around it and leans close to sniff it. “There’s no blood left in this body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles puts his hands on his hips and looks at the sky. “I was really hoping that vampires weren’t a thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott pulls the collar of the shirt down on the man to reveal unbroken skin. “Not vampires. There has to be puncture marks or something on the body but I don’t want to move it too much before we call the police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you smell anything else in the area? Derek’s been looking but he can’t exactly talk to us.” Stiles points to the wolf sitting next to his legs and leaning into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. There’s a smell I can’t place, but it’s faint and not human. Probably just an animal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call my dad. Derek and I will have to wait for the police. You should leave and give your mom a heads up that we’re going to need to get into the morgue later today. We need to know how the blood was drained if I’m going to figure out what did this.” Stiles pulls out his phone and makes the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a long time for Stiles to answer all the questions the police have—they’re just doing their jobs—but it’s well past noon when he gets home. Stiles showers and waits for Scott to call. It takes longer than Stiles would like and by the time Scott calls, Stiles has researched animals that consume blood, watched two episodes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Community</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and eaten two pop tarts. Scott tells Stiles his mom is conveniently covering a night shift for another nurse and can let them into the morgue at eleven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, it’s more waiting around, more research that goes farther into the crazy parts of the internet Stiles would like to avoid, and more episodes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Community.</span>
  </em>
  <span> At ten-thirty, Stiles tries to be quiet going down the stairs, skipping the squeaky spot on the third from the bottom step, but he’s stopped by his dad’s voice from the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going, Stiles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have school tomorrow. Are you going to look at that body?” His dad twists around on the couch so he can look at Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no use lying. He’s going to have to tell his dad what he finds anyway. “Mrs. McCall is going to let us in. The body was drained of blood, Dad. The chances of this being a supernatural problem are fairly high.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dad sighs and his eyes go back and forth between Stiles and the wolf standing next to him. “I worry about you, son.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf whines and leans into Stiles and, without thinking, Stiles threads his fingers through Derek’s fur and makes a fist, holding on. “I can figure this out and we can stop whatever it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah’s stare pins Stiles. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Let me know what you find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles nods and walks towards the door, Derek crowding his legs. Stiles turns and kneels in front of the wolf. “You have to stay here.” Derek whines and licks Stiles on the cheek. “I know you want to go, but I can’t exactly sneak you into the hospital.” The wolf whines again. “Stay here with Dad. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t like it when Stiles leaves. He knows Stiles has to go to school, but Stiles usually takes Derek with him everywhere else. He knows the human needs to go to the hospital to look at the body they found earlier. He knows and he doesn’t like it. The door closes when Stiles leaves and a tight, restless feeling wraps around Derek that he can’t shake. He tries laying at Noah’s feet, then on the couch when Noah relents, but the feeling around him gets bigger and he wants to leave and go after Stiles. Derek finally gets up and paces from the front door to the back door and back, over and over, whining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems like hours and hours before Derek finally hears the roar of the Jeep, still miles away, and Derek goes to the front door to wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles comes through the door and Derek can smell the fatigue and excitement buzzing under Stiles’s skin. He still needs to make sure Stiles is uninjured so he crowds the human, smelling him and checking him for blood. Stiles’s smell goes from tired to pleased and relaxed as Stiles rubs his hands over Derek and Derek leans into the touch, pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed me, did you?” Stiles rests his forehead against Derek’s and Derek stills at the contact. Both of them breathe together and Derek thinks this is the best he’s felt all day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles goes to the living room and Derek follows him. Noah is asleep, but wakes when Stiles sits down on the other end of the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man sits up. “What did you find?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leans against Stiles’s legs and Stiles cards his fingers through Derek’s fur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were three large puncture wounds in the back of the body, spaced out, but not evenly, so maybe multiple somethings did it. We think that’s how the blood was drained. No idea by what. There weren’t any other marks or defensive wounds. I’m going to do some research, see what we find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow though. You need to go to sleep. You have school tomorrow, in a few hours in fact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, Dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek follows Stiles upstairs into the room that smells like both of them, their scents mingled together like pack and safety and love. He knows he’s only allowed here like this because he’s a wolf, knows that in his human form all these things are more complicated, hurt more. Derek curls up next to Stiles when the human crawls into bed and lets the complications go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worry eats at Stiles, small bites that get larger every day as he considers what might happen if Derek never comes back to them, if he’s a wolf forever. A sorrow fills in the spaces in between the worry and Stiles mourns the person even as he lays his head on the shoulder of the wolf next to him. They’re laying on his bed while he works on math homework and Derek is a solid, warm weight behind him. There are other books on the bed and the Bestiary is open under his notes, because every few minutes Stiles abandons his school work to flip through the pages. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The police scanner is on, a low hum in the background, when Stiles hears the chatter that’s happening over the airwaves. He pulls out his phone and texts his dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Another body?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s five minutes before his dad replies. </span>
  <b>Yes, same MO as the first. In the Preserve. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles is halfway off the bed when his phone buzzes again. </span>
  <b>Do not come here. Send Scott to the morgue in three hours.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles sighs, lays back down, and texts Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The body is the same as the first, drained of blood and three uneven, spaced out puncture wounds where the blood was drained. The second body appeared five days after the first, so Stiles figures they have at least a couple of days to figure things out. He digs deeper and tries to ignore the gnawing anxiety over Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four days pass. Four days of increasing pressure and no answers. Stiles throws the Bestiary into the corner of his room in disgust. He’s been through it so many times he has the damn thing memorized, yet still no answers. Stiles flops into his desk chair and chews on his thumb, his brain trying to make sense of his thoughts. Derek is watching him from where he is curled up on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles opens his laptop and shakes his head before typing some stuff into Google. This kind of search rarely yields anything useful— there’s just too much junk folklore on the web—but Stiles is out of ideas. He’s hoping an idea of something fractionally truthful will appear. Three hours later, at about 1 am, he’s messing around on a D&amp;D site when he finds it. It’s dumb really, how much their lives resemble a poorly constructed D&amp;D game, but Stiles is desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles calls Scott even though it’s late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott answers the phone, his voice is rough with sleep. “Stiles, is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what’s in the Preserve. It’s a strix. At first I thought it was a stirge, a bat-like creature that sucks blood in D&amp;D, but then I did some more digging and found something similar in Greek mythology called a strix. They usually live in small groups, I’m guessing there’s three since there are three puncture wounds, and they hunt at night. I think they’re the size of a medium dog, but I’m not sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott’s voice is more alert when he says, “Tonight is the fifth night. We can all go to the Preserve. See if we can find it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or let them find us.” Stiles hates being bait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Stiles. See you at school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All day at school, Stiles is jittery and the feeling only increases when he gets home. At dusk, he starts gathering what he thinks they’ll need then grabs the bat that’s behind his door. This one is metal, heavy and Stiles likes the feel of it in his hands. Derek is right against his legs, bumping into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pushes him from behind, almost knocking Stiles off balance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re staying here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek crouches down, ready to pounce, and growls. There are no undertones of play in that noise and Stiles should be scared, but he rolls his eyes and grabs Derek by the ruff of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t come.” Stiles kneels so he is face-to-face with Derek. “You plunge into danger like some kind of battering ram, like it doesn’t matter if you get hurt, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t matter.” Stiles’s fingers tighten on the skin and fur he has fisted in his hands. “You’re important to me.” Stiles swallows. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice breaks and he leans his forehead against the wolf’s and tries to reign in his emotions— knows Derek can smell all of them—but he’s to the point where maybe it doesn’t matter. Stiles is starting to think that Derek may never come back to them. The thought slices through him and the next breath he takes is a shudder. Derek whines and Stiles wants to fall apart at the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll bring you, but Derek, please…” Stiles can’t finish the sentence in any way that doesn’t end in something that sounds like </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span> so he clamps his mouth shut until his teeth ache. “Let’s go then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They meet up in one of the parking lots and walk to a point in between where the bodies were found. Allison and Stiles are the only ones armed. Allison has her bow and arrow and, Stiles is positive, an entire arsenal hidden on her person. They split off into three groups: Scott and Lydia; Malia, Allison, and Isaac; and Derek and Stiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Check-in after an hour,” Scott says before they walk in opposite directions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon is a little more than half full and it’s a cloudless night so the woods aren’t as dark as they could be. Even so, Stiles still trips over a tree root and Derek is there, even as a wolf, keeping him from falling on his face. They aren’t trying to be quiet, they want to be found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles talks. “I’ve been thinking.” The wolf looks at him and Stiles swears he can see Derek roll his eyes. “A lot of the stuff we encounter here is rooted in some kind of mythology. I mean humans have always made up stories to explain things they don’t understand. The problem is that we, and by we I mean I, have to sift through all the junk to get to the nuggets of truth buried in folklore. What we really need is not just a Bestiary but someone with more folklore and mythology knowledge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles pauses and listens. There’s a slight breeze, but there's some movement or sound he can’t place. Derek has gone still beside him and Stiles places a hand on the wolf. Stiles keeps talking and slows his steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to add mythology and folklore to my reading rotation and I’m going to try to hunt down some of the older texts. I figure some of them might be closer to the truth. People believed more in magic then.” Stiles tightens his hands on his bat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek presses in close to him, then peels off to walk a couple feet to his left. Even though Stiles is expecting something, the moment everything happens still catches him by surprise. A creature, bigger than he predicted, glides through the air in front of him. Its body is the size of a large dog with dark leathery wings that end in claws. It resembles a large bat except that it’s head ends in a spear shaped proboscis that is aimed at Stiles’s chest. Stiles tries to duck, but a weight crashes into him from behind and something sharp digs into his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles swings his bat at the strix in front of him and knocks it out of the air. Derek is snarling somewhere to his left, which means that there are at least three. Stiles raises his bat and smashes the head of the thing on the ground. The pain in his shoulders increases and then he feels a piercing pain, like a stab wound. He does not want to be anything’s dinner tonight. He likes his blood in his body where it belongs. He tries to pull at the claws in his shoulders but the creature just digs in further, and Stiles drops to his knees. His entire upper body is on fire and the pain is making it hard for Stiles to think. He tries to get his phone out of his pocket, but that is the moment when he feels a pull and he gets lightheaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strix suck the blood of their prey once they’re attached, and Stiles knows this one is settling in to drain him dry. He wonders how long it will take if only one creature is attached to him. The other bodies had been drained by three monsters. Hopefully, it will take long enough to kill him that Derek will have time to to come help him. Derek is wrestling with the third strix, so Stiles staggers to his feet and runs with all the speed he can muster towards one of the larger trees. At the last minute, he twists and tries to rub the strix from his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost works, but Stiles has already lost a lot of blood and he doesn’t have the strength to get decent momentum. The strix stops feeding—Stiles can feel the needle like proboscis slide from his back—unfortunately, the monster also digs its claws in further and his arms are starting to tingle and go numb from the shoulder down. Stiles turns again and slams his back into the tree, trying to crush the strix between himself and the rough bark. His shoulders scream and he feels his skin and muscle tearing. Stiles grits his teeth and pushes with his legs, grinding the strix into the tree as the thing lets loose a screech that causes his ears to ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The claws at his shoulders and lower back loosen enough that Stiles can move back and forth against the tree. He jumps away and the strix falls to the ground at the base of the tree. Derek is on it in a second, teeth at its throat, then Derek pulls and its head is separated from the body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles drops to his knees. Black spots are creeping into his vision and everything is a haze of red pain. Stiles can’t draw in enough air into his lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” is all he manages before he pitches face first into the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blood from the strix is foul and coats his mouth like oil. Derek shakes the neck of the last strix until the head pops loose. Derek is pleased they defeated the strix so quickly and turns to check on Stiles in time to see the human face plant into the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek whines and leaps to where Stiles is lying still on the ground. Too still. Derek can still hear his heartbeat, steady, but weak—nothing like the rabbit fast pace he’s used to overriding every other sound in whatever room Stiles is in. The smell of Stiles’s blood is heavy, and Derek sniffs along the wounds on Stiles’s back. There are five, one at each shoulder, two at the small of his back and one nasty puncture wound that is seeping blood with every beat of Stiles’s heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries to lick the puncture wound, unable to think about what to do next. Stiles’s heart slows just a fraction, but it’s enough. Enough that the cold slick of fear wraps it’s way around Derek and claws at his throat. Stiles, his Stiles, could die if Derek doesn’t do something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek throws his head back and howls in frustration and fear, calling the pack to him, then he does the only thing he can do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shifts back into his human skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything feels tight and Derek almost loses his balance as he kneels in the dirt over Stiles. He catches himself before he falls into Stiles, barely. Derek reaches out and touches Stiles with human hands for the first time in weeks. There’s a tremor to Derek’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek rips strips from Stiles’s shirt and uses them to put pressure bandages on the puncture wound and the wounds on Stiles’s shoulders, which are scratched up with deep open gashes. The fear gripping Derek tightens. He should have taken better care of Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott and Lydia are the first to appear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t wait for them to talk. “Stiles needs to get to the hospital. He’s lost a lot of blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The keys are in the Jeep. He’s been keeping clothes in the back for you. Just in case,” Scott says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek scoops Stiles up with an arm behind his head and under his knees. “I know. Meet me at the hospital.” Derek starts running. “Have Chris help with cleanup. The strixes are all dead.” He yells over his shoulder, then runs in earnest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lays Stiles down on the back seat of the jeep then slips into the jeans and Henley that are in a pile in the back. He pulls the keys from the visor and peels out of the lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott must have called Sheriff Stilinksi and Melissa McCall after he left because they’re both waiting for Derek when he comes through the emergency room doors. Melissa pushes the gurney and Derek lists Stiles’s injuries as he trails after her. Melissa pulls Stiles into a room and two doctors come into the room and start checking Stiles. Derek is left in the hall with Noah. The tile is cold on his feet and it helps ground Derek through the haze of fear for the very fragile human in the room beyond the doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek raises his eyes and says the only thing he can to Noah. “I’m sorry. There were three of them. One of them got to Stiles before I could. He’ll be fine. He has to be. I’m so sorry.” Derek is tired of losing people he loves, so sick of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah looks at him, takes in Derek’s bare feet and wrinkled clothes, and wraps Derek in a hug. It’s not a gentle hug, but a full, strong embrace that takes the air from Derek’s lungs. Derek is slow to react and return the hug, but they stay like that for a moment before Noah releases him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you injured?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek rubs the back of his neck. “I might have been, but I healed. I was more worried about getting Stiles here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah nods and looks into the room where they are working on Stiles. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tilts his head slightly and listens. “The doctor is trying to figure out how Stiles was injured. Melissa is telling him a large animal of some kind but that they should get to work and let the police sort it out.” They both smile grimly at each other. “The doctor is going to give Stiles some blood and sew him up, but says he should be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Sheriff’s shoulders ease and the smell of relief coming of the other man is palpable. Scott, Allison, and Lydia come running down the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he...?” Scott starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “The doctor said he should be okay. Your mom told him it was an animal attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison’s arm goes around Scott and her head rests on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia steps into Derek’s space and wraps her arms around him. Derek is quicker to react to this hug. Lydia’s voice is in his ear. “This wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you’re back even if I will miss the fluffy version of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls in a deep breath that smells like pack, reassurance, and the magic that is Lydia. He allows himself to be comforted, but it’s the steadiness of the heartbeat in the next room that calms him. Stiles is wounded, but he’ll live to face down danger with a bat another day, and Derek vows to do a better job covering Stiles’s back. He isn’t foolish enough to think he’ll ever get Stiles to not run into danger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The entire pack, plus Chris and Isaac, is perched on the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room when Melissa comes out to talk to them. Derek’s eyes follow her as she approaches the group. She smells of exhaustion and relief, and Derek’s muscles ease. He knows what she’s going to say before her mouth opens. Stiles is going to be okay. He’s torn up, but they stitched his wounds and gave him a blood transfusion. Stiles should be able to go home tomorrow and they can go visit Stiles in pairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone is standing around Derek. Noah and Scott follow Melissa back to Stiles’s room and Derek stays rooted in the chair, hands so tight on his knees that if he had claws he would be drawing blood. He wants nothing more than to run to Stiles, to reassure himself that Stiles is going to recover. Derek can hear Stiles’s heartbeat, can pick it out of the cacophony of the others around him easily. It’s strong and ticks up when he sees his dad and Scott, then races off again, fearful. Stiles’s heart continues to beat faster and Derek stands, worry licking at his heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott bursts back through the door to the waiting room. “Derek, you have to come back now or Stiles is going to get out of his bed and hunt you down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t need to follow Scott. He runs down the hall and can hear Stiles long before he opens the door to his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, I have to make sure. I have to see him.” Stiles’s voice is frantic and his heart sounds like Stiles is on the verge of a panic attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek puts on a short burst of speed and goes through the door of the room and is next to Stiles’s bed as quick as he can manage without raising suspicion from the nurses and doctors in the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, thank God.” Stiles halfway lifts his hands like he’s going to reach out to Derek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blush creeps up Stiles’s neck and Derek has the urge to find out how far down that blush goes. Stiles puts his hands back down on the bed and his eyes catalog the sight of Derek, checking him over for injuries. Of all the things Stiles has done for him the past few weeks, this frantic checking is what breaks Derek, what cracks him open to expose all the raw parts of him. Stiles cares about him, about what happens to him, is willing to fight for him, and Derek hasn’t had anyone do that for him in a very long time. He had forgotten what a gift that kind of loyalty and affection could be when given without motive or guile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek crosses the room in long strides because he needs reassurance too that Stiles is well and whole. He grabs both of Stiles’s hands and leans down so that their foreheads are touching. Derek breathes deep, letting all his senses become enveloped in everything that is Stiles. “I’m here and I’m fine. You’re the one everyone is worried about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls pain from Stiles, the teen relaxes, and his heartbeat evens out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Werewolf drugs are the best.” Stiles squeezes Derek’s hands and they stay like that until Noah clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek reluctantly stands up and turns to look at the sheriff, keeping one of Stiles’s hands in his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah looks down at that retained connection. “Derek, you and I are going to have to have a talk, soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods. He’s not looking forward to that, but he looks down at Stiles and knows that he’d do anything for him. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shifts on the bed, leaning over the side to look at the floor. “You don’t have shoes on.” Stiles tries to flail in the bed in indignation, but winces and lays back down gingerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek frowns. “I was trying to save your life, you idiot. I didn’t take time to look for them. You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs, full and happy, a slight wince of pain crossing his face. “That’s the Sourwolf I know and…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Stiles swallows and looks away at the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah rolls his eyes and sighs. “The rest of the pack is here. I’ll send them in a couple at a time. I have to take a statement, but that can wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re alone, but Derek can hear the others and it won’t be long before they’re interrupted. He squeezes Stiles’s hand—he never let it go, may never let it go again—and sits on the edge of the bed next to Stiles’s hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, for everything,” Derek says. The words are completely inadequate for the swell of emotion filling in all the wounds that have been left open over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to miss Fluffywolf. Can you go back and forth now? Not that I don’t like you as a human. I do. Who wouldn’t? You’re unfairly gorgeous and nice to look at and I’m definitely closing my mouth now.” A blush blooms furiously over Stiles’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiles. It still feels odd to have facial expressions after weeks as a wolf. “I’m not sure I can full shift back and forth. I’m not sure how I shifted into the wolf the first time, but we can practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll need my anchor to help me go back and forth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can hear the moment Stiles registers the words, the way his heart ticks up a notch and his blush deepens. The door opens and Scott and Allison come in. Stiles tries to pull his hand from Derek’s, but Derek holds on tight and doesn’t move from Stiles’s side for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek is nervous, which is ridiculous. Stiles got home from the hospital today and Derek is standing on the Stilinksi’s porch with the setting sun over his back and indecision in his gut. He knows he and Stiles are on the edge of something they’ve been hurtling towards for a long time now, maybe since the beginning, but Derek is still cautious, still fearful of peering over the edge or jumping off headlong. Derek takes a deep breath and knocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah answers the door and his smile at seeing Derek is something Derek still isn’t used to. Trust and affection. “Come on in. Stiles was hoping you’d show up. I’d like to talk to you first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is it, Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah leads Derek into the edge of the living room so Stiles can see him. Stiles grins and opens his mouth to talk, but Noah holds up a hand. “I need to talk to Derek for a minute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on Stiles’s face would be hilarious if Derek wasn’t halfway certain his own wasn’t a mirror of the horrified look on Stiles’s face. “No, Dad. No, no, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Stiles. I’ll give him right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’s brown eyes are wide and his heart is beating rabbity fast as he leans back into the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek says to focus Stiles on something before the young man has a panic attack. “It’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles groans. “It’s really not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah leads Derek into the kitchen and jumps right into it without any introduction. “My son is underage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods. “I’m aware.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Painfully.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what your intentions are, but I know my son, so I’m going to rely on you to make good decisions, adult decisions. About my underage and illegal son.” Noah crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frankly, Derek was expecting a talk that included threats to stay away from Stiles and this doesn’t sound like that at all. The relief is sweet but short since it is chased by fear that what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> receiving from Noah is guarded permission to date his son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah speaks before Derek finds a response. “You look surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “To be honest, I thought you’d tell me to stay away from Stiles completely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah gives Derek a look that is suspiciously similar to Stiles when he is annoyed. “If you think telling my son to stop seeing you would work, then you also must think I don’t know about all the times you’ve crawled through his bedroom window.” Derek opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “I’m a sheriff for Pete’s sake, I notice things. Do you care about Stiles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course I do.” Derek answers without hesitation, then pauses, unsure how to even explain what Stiles means to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re always welcome here, son. Always. Stiles is fiercely loyal and I know how he feels about you. Be safe, be kind to each other, and don’t give me a reason to throttle either one of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I’m leaving him in your hands for a bit. We need some groceries and I promised Melissa I’d drop her dinner at the hospital.” Noah raises his voice. “I expect to find you both fully clothed when I get home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, Dad.” Stiles groans from the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noah grabs his keys and Derek stands in the kitchen for another minute, trying to decide how he got here and what he’s going to do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get in here, Sourwolf.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sighs and goes into the living room. Stiles is sitting on the couch, a pillow at his back and a pensive expression on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to do?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch a movie with me?” Stiles is playing with the hem of his shirt as if he is nervous and thinks Derek is going to refuse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want me to make popcorn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles perks up. “With gummy bears?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek rolls his eyes. “Gross, but ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no taste.” Stiles crosses his arms, a mirror of Noah from moments before, and Derek almost laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must not. I’m here with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles snorts and Derek smiles at him. The moment feels nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek comes back from the kitchen and finds that Stiles has put in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Serenity</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Derek hands Stiles the bowl and sits down by Stiles’s feet. It feels odd, to be on the couch like this, after weeks of sitting here as a wolf, curled up right next to Stiles. He feels miles away on the other side of the couch and isn’t sure how to breach the gap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The primary buffer panel flies off the ship on the screen and a piece of popcorn hits Derek on the temple. He turns to frown at Stiles, who is smirking at him. Stiles picks up another piece of popcorn and lobs it at Derek. Derek catches it in his mouth and winks at Stiles as he chews. Stiles laughs so hard Derek has to catch him before he falls off the couch and spills the bowl tipping precariously in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” Stiles motions to Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to put any extra weight on your back.” Derek doesn’t move from his place on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then give me some of those nice werewolf painkillers. I want you closer than what you are right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warmth is coating him, a warmth that Derek forgot could be focused on him. He swallows and moves as Stiles shifts his feet from the couch to the coffee table, making room for Derek to sit next to him. Derek snuggles against Stiles, leaning his head on Stiles’s shoulder, and curling his legs underneath himself. Stiles sifts a hand through Derek’s hair, and Derek is surrounded by the sensations of touch and smell that all mean home and love to him. Derek had been worried that he would only get this kind of affection in his wolf form and something loosens in his chest at the realization he was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” The words aren’t enough, but Derek says them anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles leans his head down enough to place his lips gently on Derek’s forehead. “No thanks necessary. We’ve saved each other enough times. I stopped keeping score a long time ago. I count other things instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves so he can see Stiles’s face. “Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like how many times I can make you tell me to shut up in one day, how many times you smile, how often I can make you laugh, which by the way, is never often enough.” Stiles is watching him while he talks, brown eyes wide and dark in the dim room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek runs a hand down Stiles’s cheek and curls it around to the back of Stiles’s neck. He desperately wants to kiss Stiles, watches as Stiles’s eyes widen and hears the catch in the teen’s breath, but he pauses. Stiles makes a frustrated noise and closes the distance between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek expects Stiles to be hesitant. He should have known better. Stiles never does anything halfway and there is nothing tentative about how Stiles presses into Derek, sweeping into Derek’s mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is possessive and needy, and Derek never wants to come up for air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they do finally break apart, Derek buries his face in Stiles’s neck with his nose pressed into the space behind Stiles’s ear until they both catch their breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’s hand stroking up and down Derek’s back. “Can we go out to dinner next weekend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On a date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Stiles’s heart stutters and kicks back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek presses a light kiss to Stiles’s cheek and snuggles back into his side. “I’d like that very much.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
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